


Welcome to your life

by Stockholmsyndrom



Series: Love is not a Victory March [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Female Steve Rogers, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Stephanie Feels, Stephanie needs a hug, Tony loves being a dick, Unplanned Pregnancy, avengers kink meme, implied future Stephanie/Tony Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stockholmsyndrom/pseuds/Stockholmsyndrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme Fill</p>
<p>When Stephanie Rogers wakes up in the 21st century, she discovers that people believe she and Howard Stark had the most passionate love affair since Rhett and Scarlett. Howard's son even goes so far to resent her for it, because who could ever get over the loss of Stephanie Rogers? Little do they know that Howard blackmailed her into sleeping with him.</p>
<p>But then Stephanie finds out that she is pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. False Truths

**Author's Note:**

> This is a promptfill from the Avengers' kink meme.
> 
> Original Prompt: During the war, Howard took advantage of his position in SSR to coerce alwaysagirl Steve into having sex with him. Maybe she was having an affair with Gabe, or Peggy, and her threatened to have her dishonorably discharged, or to have Bucky sent to the most dangerous regions on the frontline. 
> 
> Steve goes through with it, goes down in the ice, and awakes seventy years later.
> 
> In the present, pretty much everyone believes she was having a passionate love affair with Howard. Tony is under the impression that Howard neglected him and his mother because he never got over his "true love" and resents her for it (which is far from the truth).
> 
> fem!Steve struggles with her demons, torn between letting people know what really happened and keeping it a secret.
> 
> Bonus: Fury knowing what really happened from the beginning, and offering support without letting on.
> 
>  
> 
> TW: Mentions of rape, sexual black mail, unwanted pregnancy, discussion of abortion

It is only after New York, that Stephanie is confronted with the publics’ image of her. She had heard some of the stories, had even seen the first few issues of the comics and had smiled at the covers. She had never met Hitler, but she certainly appreciated how she punched him in the face.

She is at a press conference, Stark sitting to her right, his eyes fixed on the crowd, answering a question about team dynamics and if they will keep working together.

 

Stark.

Stephanie tries not to dwell on him too much. Seventy years have passed and yet, for her it has been barely two months. Two months since the last time she has been with Howard, his hands on her sides, his moustache scratching her skin and his body, so much weaker than hers, trapping her beneath him.

She bites her bottom lip, forcing herself back into the presence. The man sitting beside her is not Howard, she reminds herself. He is her team mate, by all means an ally and one of the closest things to a friend she has. It doesn’t matter that they cannot seem to stand each other; she knows what a capable fighter he is. And that is the only thing she should be thinking right now.

 

“Captain,” another journalist addresses her. He is white, his greying hair full and his facial hair trimmed sharp. He is from one of the bigger papers, but she cannot recall which one. She hadn’t been paying attention.

“We all heard the stories. But tell us, how is it to fight alongside your former lover’s son?”

 

The world comes to a crashing halt and Stephanie can’t even register the condescending tone of his voice. The question in itself shatters her capability to think straight, sudden nausea rising in her.

“I…” she mumbles, the microphone in front of her forgotten.

She had tried so hard to push Howard away, tried to forget about him, not wanting his ghost to haunt her new life. And it was hard, god it was so hard, every time she looked at Tony was like looking through a distorted fun house mirror and on the other end there was Howard, looking at her in this strange way, his eyes glittering with promises Stephanie would give the world for him not to keep.

Bile rises in her throat and she is getting up, her chair screeching on the floor as she shoves it back forcefully. She flees, almost stumbling over her own feet, her only thought to run, run away from Howard’s grasp, that iron grip he still has over her, years after his death.

She breaks down in one of the restrooms, hurling into the porcelain sink, her hands gripping the edges.

 

‘Your hair is beautiful, even with all that grime in it,’ Howard had whispered after a mission, bringing a strand up to his mouth and kissing it. She had shivered, closing her eyes and wishing herself far away.

After, Bucky had found her, destroying a punching bag. He had said nothing and stepped in, sparring with her until they both were exhausted enough to fall asleep in the boxing ring.

 

She washes her face under the stream of ice cold water, willing herself to return from that place she swore never to go to again. It was all past. Howard is dead and will never touch her again, will never hurt her. His ghost is the only thing that remains, and Stephanie Rogers does not believe in ghosts.

“You know, Stark almost death-rayed that reporter.”

Clint is waiting for her outside the restroom, his frame leaning against the wall, but his overly showy playing on his phone betrays his worry.

Stephanie wills herself to smile.

“I’m sorry I stormed out like that,” she starts, not knowing how to continue this. There really isn’t much she can say, because talking about Howard is not an option. She has sworn to leave that part behind her, no matter what.

Clint just shrugs, pushing himself off the wall effortlessly and patting her back.

“’s okay. You missed the best parts though. Thor threatened to wield his hammer and the whole room broke into a panic. Nat’s handling it though, probably kicking reporters out as we speak. That was a real dick move. Today was hero business only. Next time space aliens from outer space attack New York we’ll definitely let the Bugle burn. Well, after rescuing all of the people of course.”

This time Stephanie actually manages a small laugh. She knows that Clint is being ridiculous on purpose and she is grateful for that. It helps her calm down and get her head together. He’d never admit it, but Stephanie knows that deep down, Clint can be a gentleman. Otherwise he wouldn’t have survived this long with Natasha as his partner.

 

They make their way to an exit, where Natasha and Bruce are waiting for them. Stephanie smiles nervously in greeting, her hands still a bit shaky. Clint hadn’t asked any questions, but that doesn’t mean the others wouldn’t.

“Thor and Stark are handling the press,” Natasha explains, a smile tugging at her lips. She probably means this in the most literal sense, and Stephanie’s smile widens. The mental image of Iron Man and Thor pummelling a room full of reporters into submission is too good for her not to enjoy it, conscience be damned.

Their car is waiting for them, Tony’s driver already in the front seat, texting.

“Captain. Agent Romanov. Doctor Banner. Clint,” he greets them each and Stephanie recalls a night of card games that Happy probably rather he forget, especially the part about Clint being the worst winner ever. Natasha and her had not participated, too busy training together, but the gleeful teasing Clint had endorsed in the next few days had been enough to unnerve even them.

“Back to the tower please. Tony and Thor will follow later.”

Stephanie squeezes between Clint and Bruce, while Natasha lounges in the front passenger, her feet already resting on the headboard.

“Feet down,” she sighs, seeing as Happy is too intimidated by Natasha to actually ask her himself. They had seen the video footage of the first time Natasha had brought him to the ground, back when she was still under cover as Tony’s assistant.

Natasha huffs, but puts her feet down, throwing her a look that Stephanie cannot decipher. She doesn’t seem upset or annoyed, but her smile is still out of place.

 

 

Back at the tower, Thor and Iron Man are already awaiting them, most likely having flown back and cheating their way through New York traffic jams.

“The way these mortals had no regard for boundaries worries me greatly,” Thor huffs and firmly sets down the cup he had been drinking from.  
“Are you feeling well, Captain?”

Stephanie smiles at him, still feeling a bit uneasy, especially as she can feel Stark’s eyes on her, his expression guarded.

"Don’t worry, big guy. Our Captain is a grown up and she can handle a bit of a scandal. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything, Dad loved to brag this one to the press, even back in the day. Must have been one hell of a story in the forties, though.”

Stephanie watches him sounder off to his workshop. His eyes hadn’t left hers during that little speech and he made very clear that he did not enjoy that particular piece of history.

She sighs, trying to find a way to push down unwanted memories. Hopefully this will blow over soon.

Of course, it doesn’t blow over.

The only reason that this whole thing is not out in the papers the very next morning, are Starks not so subtle threats against various publishing companies and TV channels.

That doesn’t stop the Internet forums from running wild though. Unofficial articles pop up everywhere and Stephanie knows that Stark’s phone is ringing constantly, various reporters not giving up on the idea of an exclusive.

“It’s not the fact that you’ve been with Howard Stark,” Bruce says to her over coffee one morning. They are the first ones to be up, after a drinking game that went on way too long the night before. In the end Natasha had won.

“It’s the way you reacted. And please, don’t look at me like that. I get it. We can’t control our emotions all the time. And the question took you by surprise, that wasn’t okay. But we’re public figures now and…”

Stephanie looks at Bruce. He doesn’t know how to deal with the attention either. She flashes him an encouraging smile and pats his shoulder, grateful for his support, even if he isn’t of any actual help.

 

Stephanie stands up, walking over to the sink to place her empty mug at the side. A flash of nausea shoots up her belly and she grips the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to steady herself.

Bruce looks at her, worry in his eyes. He tells her that it is okay to be upset and asks what he can do for her. But Stephanie already feels her stomach turning, the coffee burning its way up her throat.

She turns, the coffee sour on her tongue as she heaves into the sink. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders if that has become a habit now.

 

“Stephanie!” Bruce shoots up, steadying her with his hand and offering her a paper towel.

Stephanie half heartedly shakes him off, leaning against the counter and wiping her mouth clean. She doesn’t need his help; she is perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet. She says as much. Bruce lets her go.

 

Stephanie doesn’t see anyone for the rest of the day. JARVIS informs her that Doctor Banner and Thor asked to see her, but she tells him that she is not feeling well and rather just sleep. Of course, JARVIS knows that she is lying about the sleeping part, his cameras watch her studying world history and new battle tactics, see as she tries anything not to deal with Howard and this whole situation, and especially not to have to deal with Stark, obviously upset with her.

 

That was what rubbed her wrong about him in the first place. He just reminded her so much of Howard, his face, the eyes, the effortless cockiness and his tech obsession.

Then she had argued with him on that Helicarrier, she had been arguing with Howard, her wounds still fresh and aching, burning at the slightest touch. She had been free of Howard’s shackles, only to find herself trapped by his son, full of spite and resentment and she couldn’t handle it. So she had lashed out.

And yet here she was, living under the same roof with a man who punched all her buttons, who did not give a damn what she thought of him, and let her know with every fibre of his being that she would never belong.


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steph and Tony go head to head. Steph gets surprising news.

It’s a few days later, and Stephanie has successfully avoided being in a room with Stark. But every good thing comes to an end.  
They are working on battle strategies, trying to work up a way for everyone to contribute in various scenarios. It all started innocently enough, with her coming up with worst-case scenarios and them coming up with back-up plans.

 

“What do we do if someone uses the Iron suit against us? Especially with you still in it?”

Stark looks at her, his gaze betraying nothing.

“You blow it up.”

Stephanie stares.

“We can’t just blow it up, what about you?”  
“Well, I will have died for a good cause, you guys throw a wild party in my honour, and nobody gets hurt. End of story.”

She blinks. Stark just shrugs and pulls out a bag of chips, taking a hand full and offering to Natasha and Bruce.

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” she asks him, feeling the anger rise up inside of her.  
“I just can. That’s how I roll.”

Stephanie cannot come up with a response to that. She looks at the others, as if daring them to speak up. She honestly doesn’t want this to end in another fight between her and Tony, but she cannot let this slide. His attitude towards her is putting a strain on the whole team.

“Maybe that is just not the best solution,” Bruce tries carefully, taking a chip between his fingers and eyeing it carefully before slipping it into his mouth.

Stephanie feels an uneasiness rising in her and all she wants to do is to slap the junk food from Tony’s hands and demand some respect, or at least his full attention. She settles for calling him out on his lack of a plan instead.

“How can you be so reckless with yourself?” she says, trying her best to keep the spite out of her voice.  
“It’s quite easy, you might want to try loosening up a little once in a while, Spangles.”

 

Suddenly she is right in front of him, her six foot stature seeming even more compared to him. Her eyes harden and she glances down at him.

“What did you just call me?”  
“Spangly. Don’t like it? Well, how about Sparkles then? Or Stripes? The Girl with the Star Tattoo? Miss America?”  
“I am your Captain,” she hisses, baffled at his outright dismissal of her.  
“We’ll, I actually don’t really recall joining your little club; so if you’re looking for soldiers who follow your orders by day and hold your shivering form by night, you might want getting into necromancy. Though I think the old man might have lost some of his boyish good looks by now.”

That’s it. She has heard enough of that. Before she even realises that her hands curling up, Stephanie’s fist connects with Stark’s jaw, sending him back. 

His eyes look wide and she can see surprise written all over his expression. It gives her an eerie sense of satisfaction.

“I will take note of that,” she huffs, glaring him down. She doesn’t even know what she wants him to do. Apologise for his words or attack her so they can have an honest fight.

Sadly, Stark doesn’t do either, simply rubbing the sore spot and turning to leave. At least this time it is not her running from a situation. Stephanie runs a  
hand through her hair and looks at the others, her expression as collected as she can manage.

 

Fury calls her in not long after.

 

She enters his make shift office on the Helicarrier, to find him sitting at his desk, documents strewn all over it.

“How’s your hand?” he asks without preamble.

Stephanie swallows, not trusting herself to sit down on the chair opposite him, but still feeling lightheaded. It had been an uncomfortable travel, even though she is used to helicopters. She had had to will herself from throwing up the water anyway.

 

“It’s better.”  
“Any of Stark’s bones broken?”  
“No.”  
“Too bad.”

 

Stephanie snorts, the smile now on her face.

“I got a full report from Romanov. It was… detailed.”

Stephanie fixes him with her gaze. She knows what this is about. Her slip up at the press conference and the incident with Stark. She will be declared unreliable, probably even will have to step down as leader of the team. She does not enjoy the prospect of that.

“Sit,” Fury tells her and she does. “I know what went on between you and Howard Stark.”

 

Stephanie cringes. The mention of his name alone makes her palms sweaty. She wishes to just stand up and shout to the whole world, that no; she did not enjoy screwing the man. She did not choose it and it was not the scandalous love affair everybody wants to make it.

“Don’t give me that martyr face. Guy was actually quite an asshole. At least when it came to people he cared for. He wrote you a letter on the 4th anniversary of your death.”

Fury actually puts the word into air quotes, but somehow looks even more intimidating for it. He pushes forward an envelope with the letters SR in Howard’s neat handwriting on it.

Stephanie’s eyes widen.

 

“It’s been in his file ever since his death. Read it. Don’t read it. Burn it. Whatever you need to do. Just deal with it. Coulson will be able to provide you with any additional information you might need.”

Stephanie looks up from the piece of paper. His expression betrays nothing. He just holds her gaze, not even twitching. She hadn’t expected anything less of him.

Her mouth is too dry to form a sound and her fingers itch to reach for the letter. But it is as if she is paralysed, her hands refuse to actually move and grab the paper.

“Thank you,” she finally breathes out, avoiding eye contact.

And as if her words had carried a spell, she finally leans in and takes the envelope, stacking it away without so much as another look. She knows that she wouldn’t be the first to read it, but she cannot bring herself to hold it in her hands any longer. The edges burn against her skin.

“Will that be all?”

Fury nods at her, and when she actually looks at him, his expression is guarded. His eye asses her carefully before he lets out a breath.

“On your way, Rogers. But before you go,” he stands up, taking the few steps around his desk and stands in front of her, his hands crossed behind his back.

“Don’t let it eat you up. Talk to someone. Now I’ll admit, I am not the person suited best for the job, but I will listen. Are we understood?”

Stephanie’s face remains neutral. She only squints her eyes to look into his face against the bright light coming from the window.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

It is a much smoother ride back to the tower, and yet Stephanie feels all the more uneasy. The letter seems to be glowing brightly in her pocket, a beacon screaming for attention, weighing heavy on her step.

She locks it away in her room, using an old Captain America tin box. She takes a last look at the handwriting, then she closes the lid and pushes it on the top most shelf. She doesn’t want to see it ever again, yet she cannot let go of it.

Opting for the usual way to deal with her stress, she changes into her training clothes and disappears into the gym. She doesn’t come out for dinner, and by midnight she has destroyed three punching bags.

Exhaustion kicks in and she slides down the wall, her knuckles bloody from her careless beating. This time there is no Bucky who comes and finds her. Because this time, Stephanie is truly alone.

Stephanie wakes up to Bruce gently shaking her shoulder. She blinks, taking a moment to gather where she is. Bruce is kneeling on the floor next to her and it seems as if she used one of the damaged punching bags as a pillow.

 

“Wha…?”  
“JARVIS informed me that your body is under too much stress right now. And you shouldn’t sleep on the floor, that cannot be comfortable.”

She takes the hand he is offering her and thanks him, a blush forming on her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to be found like this and she hadn’t meant to worry Bruce, or Jarvis for that matter.

“You seem to be quite a bit out of it lately. Are you sure you’re ok?”

Stephanie nods, slipping into the sweater he hands her. She smiles at Bruce, thankful for his kindness. He is always trying to take care of them, even the ones that don’t want him to.

“I guess it’s just the stress finally catching up,” she admits and grabs her water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a good long swig. She immediately starts to feel better.

“Well, that can very well be. Can I still run a few tests? Just to be absolutely sure.”

Stephanie smiles.

“Absolutely.”

 

Having a scientist with multiple doctorates around, can be very convenient. Between Bruce’s biology, chemistry and physics degrees, and Thor’s actual M.D. Nobody ever has to consult an outsider after getting injured in battle. Which can be a blessing. Especially Clint and Natasha are grateful to have a team member take care of them, rather than one of the SHIELD appointed physicians.

But sometimes, it is the exact opposite.

Stephanie almost shudders at the level of scientific lingo being thrown back and forth between Bruce and Thor. She always thought Stark and Bruce made insufferable company, but Thor was just as bad.

They are discussing glucose levels and blood cells, hormones, temperatures and her enhanced metabolism right over her head. Somehow she does not enjoy that at all. Sitting on the chair, pressing a band aid to the crook of her elbow, she watches Thor and Bruce. Thor had been surprisingly gentle when he had taken her blood, and now they are preparing it for analysis.

“Usually this could take weeks,” Bruce explains. “But since we have our very own lab and don’t need to FedEx across half the state, we’ll know in a few hours. Well, of course Tony’s advanced tech and our combined genius contribute as well”

Stephanie smiles at that. Bruce usually is so much quieter when everyone is around. It is good to see him joking.

"So off you go, eat something other than that god awful pop tart Thor made you.”  
“I must protest with vigour, that pop tart was of fine craftsman ship and I prepared it with the utmost care…”

Stephanie laughs and takes Bruce’s advice. She heads toward the kitchen, craving a bowl of cereal or a maybe a sandwich. She can’t even recall the last time she had a meal.

 

Stark shuffles into the kitchen, just as she starts applying butter to her toasts. They look at each other, neither saying a word. He seems as surprised to see her as she is, both of them speechless for the first time.

“So, how’s the jaw?” she finally asks, trying to lace her tone with compassion and humour. She doesn’t feel like arguing today and they cannot take their frustration with each other out on the sparring grounds. Thor had told her to rest until they had the results.

“You throw quite a mean punch,” he settles for a smile, but Stephanie recognises it from press photos and meetings. But she doesn’t mind. She’ll take what she can get.

“Tony, about the other day…”  
“Captain Rogers, Doctor Banner requests your presence in the lab. He says it is urgent.”

Whatever Stephanie was going to say, she drops it. Stark is looking at her, questions burning in his eyes, but she just flashes him a smile, excusing herself and jogs down the hall to see about her test results.

 

“What?”

 

Stephanie stares at Bruce, note sure she heard right. She can’t have. There must be a mistake somewhere, she can’t possibly be…

“We have detected human chorionic gonadotropin in your blood. That hormone only is produced during pregnancy. From the quantity of hCG in your blood, I would say you are in your 10th to 12th week.”

Stephanie’s world turns mute. Whatever Bruce is saying, she doesn’t get any of it. Her mind is racing, having of course made the connections before she dares thinking about them.

She hasn’t been with anybody since Howard. But if he is the father, that means the baby has been there all along, has survived the ice, the attacks, everything.

Her hand finds her belly and she presses down on it lightly, acknowledging the life there.

“I…”  
“…and maybe notify the father if you want me to…”

 

Nobody knows.

It’s suddenly clear as crystal. They don’t know it’s Howard’s. They don’t know that she is currently carrying the child of a man who has been dead for decades. Tony Stark’s half sibling.

She forces herself to smile. It’s a gesture that hurts and it seems near impossible to carry through, but she does it anyway.

“I gather it was not planned,” Bruce observes dryly but not without sympathy.

Stephanie huffs.

“Not exactly.”  
“Well, I will not tell a soul, and Thor won’t either. But Stephanie… as your friend… It would be good to let the team know, eventually.”

She nods, wiping her sweat damp hands on her clothes.

“Sure. I just… need to figure a few things out first.”  
“Of course.”  
“Thank you.”

They look at each other. Bruce’s smile is reassuring and he gently takes her hand between his and squeezes it.

“If you have any questions, at all. And I can recommend a list of specialists. If you… want to talk to someone else. But I’m always there, ready to listen and help.”

She smiles, thanking him. They talk a bit longer, covering the basics of what she is going to go through the next weeks and months. He stresses the need for her to see a specialist, whether she decides to keep the baby or not, she needs to make sure that she is healthy.

 

Stephanie closes the door behind her almost without making a sound. She rests her head against the wood, letting her eyes fall shut. She breathes evenly, willing herself to stay calm. She cannot afford to lose control again. She cannot let Howard haunt her.  
But who is she even kidding? Even from the grave Howard is still haunting her, his child growing in her belly, still healthy after seventy years in the ice, what is that if not a haunting?

Where will she run now? There is nowhere she can go; no matter how far her feet will carry her. This thing inside her, this little piece of Howard will always be there with her, whispering her name, demanding her love, her attention, her warmth, feeding off her.  
She closes her eyes and weeps, dry tears burning on her cheeks. Ghosts.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you, punk.”  
Stephanie raises her eyes at the familiar voice. She is sitting on her bed in the Avengers Tower, pretending to sleep, when in all honesty; she had been staring into the darkness.

Bucky grins at her, flashing his perfectly straight teeth, all charm and good humour, despite the way his gruff uniform is dirty and rumpled after long missions and covert ops. He is exactly the way she remembers him after every battle they fought together. Stephanie sighs, and smiles.

“You’re dead.”  
“Never said otherwise.”  
“What do you want?”

Bucky laughs and sits down on the bed. He is close enough for her to feel that he has no warmth, but the bright smile and his twinkling eyes let her see past that.

“Just looking after you.”

His gaze drops to her stomach and it makes something in her insides twist.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”  
“It’s not your fault.”  
“Well it damn well isn’t yours!”

Stephanie closes her eyes, grateful to have someone say what she so desperately needs to hear. She doesn’t notice the tears until they roll down her face.  
“If he wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him. Or hold him down while you do it.”  
Stephanie huffs a choked laugh.

“I wish you were here, Buck.”  
“Yeah… Me too.”

They look at each other like two lost children, clinging to the only person they have left. Bucky’s forehead rests against hers, his eyes searching for hers.

“Are you…”  
She shakes her head, heavy with unprocessed thoughts and a never ending tiredness.  
“I don’t know.”

When Stephanie wakes up the next morning, her pillow is sticking to her face. All the unshed tears she had been holding back had come out at night. For the first time in a long while she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, the weight on her had been lifted, if only a little.


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie makes a decision, Natasha talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW include: flashback to noncon (in italics) and discussion of abortion.

Her relationship with Tony stays rocky. On a good day they will nod courtly towards each other, acknowledge the other’s presence and then go on with their respective days.

On a bad day both of them will talk about the elephant in the room, but neither will actually say the name.

Stephanie understands how hard Tony’s life must have been. She knows the pain of trying everything to win a father’s love. She knows how much each carelessly dropped remark cuts deeper than the last one, eating away at bones and flesh. But she doesn’t know how it feels to give up.

Her mother had taught her to always go on, strife for more, keep moving forward. And if she hits a wall she will either climb it, or find a way around. But she will never lose hope.

And so she doesn’t understand how Tony had.

 

Pepper is there, probably in the kitchen to convince Tony to go to bed, to not drink so much, to stop working so hard; Stephanie can name a thousand reasons for Pepper Potts to be needed.

She halts, not sure if her craving for spaghetti and hot chocolate is really worth getting into this, but her name being called stops her.

"… and Stephanie Rogers is no saint! I mean, come on, she is pregnant, for god’s sake! After what, three days of being defrosted she goes and gets herself knocked up!”

“You’re slut shaming Captain America??”

“She fucked my father, Pep!”

“Captain America! And your father wasn’t even married then!”

“…”

“Tony, grow up! The poor woman lost everyone she ever knew, and you, YOU, punish her for loving an unmarried bachelor who cared about her?!”

 

Stephanie chooses this exact moment to enter the kitchen. She literally doesn’t care anymore. If Stark wants to be so up and mighty about things he doesn’t know the least bit about, he can at least know that he is not alone. Stephanie will be there, waiting for him to pass his judgement over her. But he will have to do it with her present.

 

“Good evening, Miss Potts,” Stephanie greets and heads straight to the fridge, making a show out of getting milk, eggs, marmalade and whatever she sees that catches her interest.

Pepper straightens, pushing a strand of her strawberry coloured hair behind her ear and produces the most amazingly honest smile. For a second Stephanie is jealous of her, she could never seem so carefree and welcoming, even if she felt it.

“Captain Rogers,” Pepper purrs and yet Stephanie doesn’t feel mocked. She likes the woman. Pepper is the sort of person who makes her feel secure and safe, while still giving off an aura of competence.

Pepper’s eyes wander to the enormous breakfast Stephanie is fixing herself and smiles. She knows about the effects the serum had on her metabolism and every once in a while, on very festive occasions, Stephanie’s appetite had rivalled Thor’s.

“That looks really good,” she says and continues to sip her coffee, giving Tony a pointed look.

Stephanie doesn’t even have to look at Stark to know that he is fuming with anger about the interruption, but holding his tongue, even if just for the sake of keeping Pepper happy.

If she is being honest with herself, Stephanie rather enjoys that and counts it as a small victory over the man. Living with him isn’t easy, especially if he keeps antagonising her as much as he is doing now. He doesn’t know how to not offend, even if he wants to, but it’s harder if he actually enjoys it as much, as when he is fighting with her.  
Even if he is the complete opposite of his father in many cases, he still reminds her of Howard every time he walks into the room, full of swagger and elegance.

Stephanie chokes, turning off the stove and leaving her half-cooked scrambled eggs behind, as she makes a run for the nearest bathroom. The bile in her mouth tastes even worse with the knowledge that Stark is talking about her and probably has figured out what is going on.

Stephanie spends the next month in her room, most of the time. She is excused from duty after Bruce tells Fury about the situation, with her permission of course.

 

And to her surprise Fury covers for her, making up a shady sickness nobody can control, something none of them buys.

 

She spends days pondering what to do. Will she keep the child? Or get rid of it? Will she tell her team? What will she even say?

 

Sometimes at night, she will place her hands on her belly, perfectly flat and toned, but then she imagines feeling a tiny heart beating.

 

She thinks of her childhood often. Nobody but her mother had wanted her. Her father had always wished for a son, not a sickly girl, too fragile to leave the house most of the time.

 

But she had prevailed. The beatings her father had given he and her mother had not changed her mother’s love. She had never seen her as a piece of that man. She had seen her as a piece of herself.

She knows that she could free herself from the shackles that keep her strapped to this nightmare. Fury had made himself clear on that. A word from her could make it all go away. He would take care of everything and make sure no one ever knew. He would even face Banner and Thor for her, if she so wished.

 

But Stephanie can’t say the word. She doesn’t know if she ever could. The moment she closes her eyes and tunes out the world around her, there is one thought that arises in her: This child is the only thing she has left from her world.

In those moments she doesn’t see Howard Stark. She sees Bucky and Peggy, Gabe and her mother; she sees her grandfather and all the others who are lost to her forever. She sees the last one she has left, the last of her family, the last of her time.

She wishes she could cut this connection, sever the threat that binds her to the child. If only this had happened in this brave new world. She wouldn’t have to think long on it then. She wouldn’t have to feel the slight spark of love in her, twisting and turning, latching onto her and begging not to be let go.

 

Sometimes she dreams of Bucky. Other times she dreams of Peggy. Yet another time she dreams of the Howling Commandos, laughing at a table, singing. And all these times, they keep away the thoughts of Howard Stark, protecting her from the darkness at night.

 

“What do I do?” Stephanie asks the old and battered photograph of her mother. It had been taken a long time ago, when her father still had had a job and they could afford such extravagances as having their picture taken.

Sarah Roger’s kind eyes look back at her, a small smile tugging on her lips. Stephanie caresses her mother’s cheek remembering when the picture stood on the table, framed and pretty and making Stephanie smile, even after her mother had passed.

 

She could almost hear her mother’s response.

“Follow your heart, my child.”

 

She calls in Fury. The Director doesn’t betray a thought as he sits at the table, staring at her with his eye.

“What can I do for you, Captain Rogers,” he asks after a while.

She can feel that her quiet is unnerving him. If she is honest with herself, it is making her uneasy too. She feels like she is letting him down by what she has to tell him. All the help and support he had offered, and she is going to ignore it.

 

“I’m keeping the child.”

Fury looks at her, his expression set in stone. Whatever he is thinking, he doesn’t let it show. Stephanie gulps under the weight of his gaze, but stands her ground. She knows what she is doing, even if she can’t believe it herself.

 

“Why am I not surprised?”

When Stephanie announces her pregnancy, no one wants to believe it. It takes Thor’s and Bruce’s solemn oaths to sway their suspicions and silence their cries of deceit.

 

Natasha offers her congratulations but excuses herself once everybody woke up from their momentarily stupor. Bruce seems very pleased that Stephanie decided to tell the team and Thor hugs her very close to him, although she can feel that he is mindful and tries not to crush her.

Clint has strong opinions about names fit for the child of Captain America and their future mascot. Stephanie smiles at that, despite the fact that she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in the past week. She stopped listening to him when he came up with Malcolm Henry McAwesome Rogers. Although Merida and Robin sound quite nice. Stephanie is sure there is some hidden pun in there somewhere, though.

 

Stark is giving her mixed reviews. He seems to like the prospect of a child, or at least he is trying his hardest to make her think that. But underneath the cheers and the jokes she can see him brooding.

 

It is then that Stephanie swears to herself that nobody will ever discover the truth about the child’s father.

 

Not even the child itself.

 

With the help of Fury, a scapegoat is created. A fallen SHIELD agent without family is posthumously upgraded to be the father. Suddenly there are records of them interacting. Interviews. Training. He had overseen her recovery. All fake.

 

Stephanie is reminded of a friend of her mother’s, Linda. All those years ago she had done the exact same thing, when she had ended up pregnant after a night with a handsome boy with no money to his name.

 

She wonders why history always ended up repeating itself. And why it is her, of all people, who is there for history and the encore.

 

When she is alone in her room, she will sing to herself, or sketch. She will do anything but go up to the shelf and take the letter. She will neither read nor destroy it.

 

It sits there, heavy on her, but she refuses to give it the power to spur her into action. She will not grant Howard that.

 

 

 

 

 

_She trembles, allowing Howard access to her belly, trying not to lean away from the touch. His aftershave stings her nose, the smell too sharp and present. Her lips are sore from unwanted kisses. She really doesn't enjoy his moustache scratching against her skin._

_Her eyes are closed and she isn't listening to what's coming from Howard's mouth. She can smell the exclusive Brandy on his breath, can taste its sting in his kisses and more than ever wishes that she could simply lose herself in the fog of alcohol._

_She revises the strategies for tomorrow's mission, makes a list of possible outcomes and reminds herself to talk to Peggy and Bucky about transportation. She even thinks about the exact wording of their discussions and remembers a crude joke that Bucky told her earlier today._

_With the memory of Bucky's dancing eyes on her mind, she can pretend not to notice Howard sinking into her, with mumblings of her perfection on his lips._

 

 

 

It all blows up in her face.

Three weeks after the first announcement, JARVIS informs her that Stark wants to see her in the workshop. Stephanie does not quite understand what for, but she dutifully stops her ministrations on the modified punching bag.

She throws a towel over her shoulder and takes her water bottle with her – she has known Stark long enough to predict his impatience. If she doesn't answer to his call right away, he will stomp his feet, pout and ignore her for the next few days.

She enters the workshop with the relief that her access code still works – there have been days during witch Stark issued up to 5 new access codes to her, claiming the need for constant security updates. Stephanie highly doubts that and clings to her own conclusion – he just wanted to annoy her.

“How,” is the first thing that Stark throws at her.

Stephanie looks surprised. She has absolutely no idea what Stark wants from her, but the fact that he isn't fidgeting like usual, makes her very uncomfortable. She is not used to him being this calm and rigid.

“What do you,” she starts, but is cut off immediately by Stark.

“I ran some tests on you, vitals, blood pressure, the usual super soldier pregnancy shtick, and turns out, the baby and me share a surprising amount of genes, so I correlated little Honey Boo Boo's data with everything that I have on file and ta da, I have a half sibling. The old man seemed to be rather busy back in the day, if he keeps popping out bastards, even now.”

The blankness in Stephanie’s mind takes over her face. She doesn’t quite understand what exactly Stark just said, but she knows that he knows. His eyes are boring into her, his expression eerily still.

 

“So please, Captain Rogers: How is it that Howard Stark is the father of your little spawn of Truth and Honour?”

 

Stephanie’s face drains of all colour. The beeping and whirring noises around her fade away and she just now realises that JARVIS. is not present at the moment. Stark is completely fixated on her.

 

Her breath catches in her throat, giving her a hard time to keep calm and think. Stark is too close to her, intruding in her personal space and cutting her off from her own thoughts. She is spiralling into a sea of blankness, drowning in his rage and her helplessness with no rescue in sight.

 

“You know what,” he asks after what seems like hours, his breath huffed, and close enough for her to feel it hitting her face. “I don’t even want to know.”

 

With that he stalks out of the workshop, leaving her behind in the empty room, her blood rushing in her ears, staring down at her white knuckled fists.

 

 

It’s Natasha that finds her. She just plops down on one of the workbenches, cross legged and full of deadly grace.

Stephanie is surprised to see her at all. She had been eerily quiet during the announcement and had taken off to god knows where soon after. Stephanie hadn’t been surprised; Natasha had always been mysterious about her motives. 

 

What takes her aback is that she is here now, dangling her legs from the workbench and just… there.

Neither of them talks for a long while. The silence seems comfortable, even if it should be tense and filled with apprehension.

 

“I was pregnant once,” Natasha finally starts, her voice calm and even.

Stephanie whips her head around, staring at the other woman.

“It was years ago, on an op. Back when it was still expected of me to play the femme fatale. Never even knew who the father was. Maybe it was a target, maybe a fellow agent. I never cared much about that. I just knew that the KGB would take the child away. Who knows what they would have done to it? And I wasn’t in a place where I could take care of another human; I could barely take care of myself. So I went out and got an abortion. 

“It was quite difficult; I couldn’t let anybody find out. Had to do it in secret. As you can imagine, it wasn’t the safest of procedures. I had barely a few hours to sneak away to the doctor, get the abortion, and sneak back in. I had a special training scheduled for the next day. Nearly killed me.”

Natasha sighs, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

“I never regretted doing it. Sometimes though… I just can’t help but wonder… What could have been.”

 

Stephanie’s eyes seem glued to Natasha’s face, watching the other woman stare into the empty workshop. She can see how her eyes harden and her whole body tenses dreading Captain America’s judgement.

Stephanie leans in, her hand finding Natasha’s and squeezing it.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she says, her voice laced with empathy.  
“I am sorry if my situation brought back unpleasant memories. I kind of understand how that feels.”

Natasha looks down at their hands and her lips curl into a smile.

“Now Stephanie, you have other things to worry about. Barton for example. He’s already made plans to paint the baby’s room purple.”

They both laugh at that.

“Thank you, Natasha,” Stephanie finally says. She is really grateful for the support the other woman is offering her right now. Even after fighting long battles next to her and trusting her with the team’s lives, she never felt as close to her as right at this moment.

Natasha shrugs her shoulders and pops a gum Stephanie hadn’t even realised she’d been chewing.

“No. It’s fine. Was about time the two of us spend some quality time together. This team is such a damn sausage fest; I’ve been considering going vegan.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“The boys, grandma.”

Stephanie has no idea what Natasha is playing at, but she is really grateful for the easiness Natasha’s dry humour gives her. She had been feeling lost for quite some time, like she was still floating in the Arctic Sea, no land in sight.

But Natasha had just called out to her from her tiny little boat, offering her a ride. Stephanie is more than grateful for that.


	4. Coincidences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth always finds a way. Even if it takes a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long! But between my two jobs that I started in summer, i didn't even have the energy to upload a new chapter! Thank you to all of you, who stuck with me! I hope you are still going to enjoy reading this fic!

They have a situation the very next day. A couple of Hydra agents try to kidnap Stark from his favorite coffee shop and instead of sticking to the plan, he is trying to save the day all by himself, causing major damages and endangering the innocent customers and coffee shop personnel.

Stephanie is furious with him, and after the debrief where Fury chewed out all of their asses, she requests to see him. She really doesn’t want to deal with him at the moment, but she is captain of the team and it is her duty to make sure everyone is a team player.

She enters the meeting room with a tea tray, thinking that maybe this could go well if she chose neutral ground.

 

“I am in no mood for a lecture, Cap.”

Stephanie sighs, placing the tea on the table and tries to keep herself focused on the task at hand.

“Stark, you realize that today you put countless people in danger-”

“No. You know what? I’m not even gonna listen to this… whatever. Lecture. Carrying my father’s bastard does not make you my mother, Rogers.”

Stephanie feels like she had been slapped.

“What…?”

She stares at the man, not sure she had understood. He hadn’t just said… surely he hadn’t meant… But Stark seems rather pleased with himself. His shoulders are relaxed and he is holding his frame with an aura of nonchalance that makes Stephanie’s stomach turn.

 

“Maria Stark. You might have heard of her. Howard’s wife you know. The woman who he married. I mean, I know she wasn’t you, she definitely knew she wasn’t you. He let us know every fucking day.

“Nobody could live up to the great Stephanie Rogers, the awesome Captain America and love of his life. He wouldn’t even look at us! My mother lived in your shadow for all of their married life and I-”

 

 

Stephanie takes the mug between her fingers, blowing gently too cool down the tea. She is very aware of Stark’s eyes on her, but for the first time, she doesn’t mind. She carefully takes a sip of her tea, pointedly ignoring his outburst. When she feels his heated gaze trying to bore into her and rip her apart, she gives him a small smile. She can hear him taking in another breath, as if to prepare himself for the next storm he would be unleashing on her.

 

“You are a petty and hateful man, Tony Stark. I am very sorry that Howard mistreated you and your mother, but that was certainly not my fault. You cannot blame me for his actions because that is what they were. His actions. Not mine. Howard was a very obsessive man who chose to be an asshole to his very own family and he is the one who is to be held accountable for his actions. Blaming me for his failures will not bring you peace or accomplish anything.”

 

She looks directly into his eyes, his brown eyes that are so very much like his father’s. She can feel the anger in him pouring out, and his gaze startling while she speaks. He is not closing himself off, and her words create an array of emotions on his face. When she is finished, she can see him fishing for a reply in his mind. But he keeps quiet.

 

For a split second, it is Howard staring back at her, swallowing hard at the piece of mind Stephanie just gave him. But then she is with Tony again, and she feels oddly light headed.

 

This time it is her who leaves the other in stunned silence. Stephanie is actually quite proud of herself. She manages too keep her calm and stalk out of the meeting room with the same dignity as Pepper or Natasha when they are covering up their emotions.

She holds herself together for all of the way back to her room. It is only under the cold water of the shower that she finally breaks down into ugly sobbing.

They avoid each other after that. For once Stephanie is thankful for Stark’s tendency to avoid conflict. After what she had said to him she isn’t sure if their relationship will ever be like it was before. Sure, they never were friends to begin with, but Stephanie cannot leave it at that. Tony Stark is a member of her team and she wants to have a good relationship with all members of said team. And if she is completely honest with herself, Stephanie kind of misses Tony.

She misses the early days, before the whole mess with Howard started. It could have been wishful thinking, but she could have sworn, once Tony had warmed up to her, he had respected, maybe even liked her.

He had been just the right side of charming and crude and that had made her at ease. She hadn’t missed her evenings with the Howling Commandos as much when she had listened to him talking over a glass of Scotch.

She is sitting on the sofa, sketching away on a few sheets of papers and desperately trying not to fall into old routines.

Tony is at some kind of beneficial art gallery opening, Pepper had asked if she wanted to come with them, but Stephanie had politely declined. She is sure, Pepper knows of her fight with Stark, but she hadn’t let anything on. But Stephanie had taken one look at Tony’s brooding face and understood that she wouldn’t have been welcome anyway.

 

 

“So, what’s up Frida?” 

Clint plops down right next to her, craning his neck to get a good look at her sketches.

Stephanie laughs, but shakes her head at his comment.

 

“I am nothing compared to her. Besides, I’m way too white for you to call me that.”

Clint just shrugs, not even bothered in the slightest by her criticism. She wishes it could be that easy with everyone.

 

“Sorry. Didn’t know any other female artists and I thought “Michelangelo” would be sexist.”

“That is very thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah, I’m nice like that.”

“That you are.”

 

They look at each other with easy smiles on their faces. Sometimes Stephanie is very thankful for her teammates. Clint, Bruce, Natasha. And Thor of course. They are all such remarkable people. And she is glad to be able to work with them. And live with them, of course. She just wishes it could be this easy with Stark, too.

 

“So, I saw this reporter loitering on the grounds today…” Clint announces, being very casual in his tone. They both still remember the disaster that started out as a press conference. The day it all started.

Stephanie tries not to flinch at the memory. She keeps her face straight and manages to only raise an eyebrow to show her curiosity.

“How exactly did that happen? I thought nobody could get close enough uninvited seeing that JARVIS is running the place.”

“Well, she wasn’t. She was on the other side of the street, on public grounds. But she looked very interested in the tower.”

“How did you even-”

“Was just hanging out on the roof.”

“Clint!”

 

He gives her a smile that reminds her very much of Bucky when his mother had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. All mischief and apologetic charm.

“Yeah, Coulson already chewed me out for that. And then he went to intimidate her. Turns out she wants to do an interview with you.”

Stephanie frowns. She rearranges her pencils and smooths over the edges of her papers. Somehow she doesn’t like where this is going.

“Interview? About what?”

“No clue. But don’t worry, Coulson is handling her. They seem to know each other. Krista Erverdeen or something. Said, she’d been involved with Stark in some way. I tend not to question that.”

Stephanie laughs, although there is really absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. However, Clint assures her that something like that press conference will not happen again, especially under Coulson’s watch. And Stephanie knows that he is right. Because Phil Coulson can handle anything. Even Fury on a bad day.

“You really want me to do the interview?”

Phil Coulson looks at her with his usual warm gaze, his lips just the slightest bit upturned. He always has this kind look on his face that makes it so easy for everyone to underestimate just how competent and determined he is.

“This has nothing to do with that disaster of a press conference. Ms Everhart wants to do an exclusive on you. I will personally see over her questions with you and she’ll need my approval for each one of them, or she is not allowed to print anything. We will also discuss your answers and you can have a PR trainer at your side.”

 

Stephanie considers this. She knows that she can trust Coulson. He would never do anything to jeopardise the team. He has proved himself to be a good friend and trusted ally to all of them when he nearly died at Loki’s hands. If he encourages her to do the interview, it must be important.

Besides, it is not her first interview. She had plenty of experience with press and news during the war, when people held her up to be the sole beacon of hope.

“It is very important that you show the world that you are the leader of this team. Between Stark’s exploits, Romanoff and Barton’s former involvement with shady organisations and… well. The Hulk and Thor. You are the one binding them all together and making them a team. You make the difference between trust and fear. And you need to set an example.

“I know you weren’t ready for what happened. But the thing is, the world knows too. You will have to prove them wrong and show them that you are the leader and that the world can trust the Avengers.”

 

There is something in his tone that gets to Stephanie. For all the romanticism surrounding her and Howard, Phil Coulson has never shown any interest in that story. Not even during those first few moments on the plane with her, when he had shyly approached her with wonder in his eyes. He had asked her so many questions. And never once had he mentioned Howard Stark. He had asked after Bucky, sure. Peggy, too. Gabe, Dum Dum, even Colonel Phillips.

 

He has to know.

 

Stephanie sighs in defeat. She trusts Coulson. And what he says makes perfect sense to her. She will have to do the interview, even if it won’t be easy. The press conference has left a mark on her, but she will deal with it for the good of the team.

 

“If you think I should do it, I’ll do it,” she says with a stern expression.

 

Coulson gives her a once over and smiles. There is still something in his eyes, but she ignores it. She doesn’t need his pity.

 

“Can I just say, Captain Rogers, that you are a very brave person. And after all these years, you are still my favorite superhero.”

 

Stephanie looks at him, not sure how to answer that.

“Thank you.”

Her smile is a little forced. She barely notices how her fingers start fidgeting, drumming to the beat of an unknown song.

 

Agent Phil Coulson can move with the swiftness and silent grace of a deadly feline if he so chooses. Many of his opponents have been fooled by his modest demeanor and not seen him as a threat. When he moves in, wordless, without blinking, and wraps his arms around her, Stephanie is surprised.

 

She sees herself as a good soldier, a great planner and a person with intuition. At least on the field.

 

The other thing she hadn’t seen coming, is how her arms wrap around the senior agent in return, and she lets out a long strangled sob that gets muffled by his shoulder.

The truth will always find a way.

Sometimes it is given freely, pouring from the mouth of one person to another, whether it is wanted or not.

Sometimes it forces its way, tearing down barriers and jumping over all obstacles that are put in the way.

The truth doesn’t care if it is welcome or not, it doesn’t need an invitation.

And even if there is no way, no street, not even a small path, the truth will eventually reveal itself.

 

 

When Thor Odinson arrives in Avengers Tower after a fortnight of spending time in Asgard, he cannot find any of his friends. JARVIS is not answering him, so he decides to search the tower himself.

He cannot find Bruce Banner or Natasha Romanoff. Clint Barton is not there either, so he makes his way into Stephanie’s room. The spacious chambers seem empty and unlived in, and Thor is sad to see his friend so closed off from everyone. He respects the Captain a great deal, she is a skilled warrior and she has a good heart. But seeing her room, tidy and almost anonymous, he feels pain and compassion for her. The woman out of time, so lonely among her friends. Not belonging. He understands how she must feel.

There is something about her that will always make him smile in wonder though. And that is her fantastic art. He steps closer to the desk, taking a look of a half finished painting. It’s done in what she calls watercolors, and he admires the stroke of her brush, and the way she lets the soft colors blend together on the paper.

His brother always had an artistic streak too, even if his talents have always been connected to spell casting and magic.

 

When he hears the voices down the hall, Thor whips around. He knew that his friends must be around somewhere, and it sounds like they just arrived, probably coming home from a fight.

 

He startles, when Stephanie’s sketchbook hits the ground, and loose sketches flutter behind it, settling down across the floor.

Thor curses his own clumsiness and bends down, carefully stacking the sketches together and placing them into her sketchbook. He doesn’t even notice the letter he puts in with the drawings.

How was he supposed to know that Stephanie had spent the better part of the night sitting at her desk and staring at Howard’s letter, not able to pull the paper out of the already opened envelope; torturing herself for hours, before finally burying it underneath her sketches, as if that helped her to magically forget about it?

 

He places everything back on Stephanie’s desk and hurries to greet his friends and offer them stories from his home in exchange for their stories. He just knows that each of them has many to tell.

 

And as Thor joins his friends, inquiring after their lives as well as Stephanie’s health, the truth has laid its seed. Waiting. Ready to grow and become stronger, ready to evolve and build itself up, until one day, a gardener will stumble over it and take a close look.

Until that day, it will sleep, waiting.


	5. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interview leads to some news for Tony

Stephanie is nervous. She gives Pepper her most helpless look, as the other woman personally retouches Stephanie’s makeup. She can’t remember the last time she wore this much makeup. But she trusts Pepper, and if those HD cameras suck the live out of her cheeks, then powder and blush, it is.

“Don’t worry, Stephanie. Ms Everhart knows that I will personally arrange for her funeral if she asks any other questions than those we agreed on. She is with the Bugle now, and Tony has kept an eye on their superhero reporting ever since their manhunt for Spider Man.”

Stephanie smiles and clutches her sketchbook a little closer to her. Pepper had advised her to bring a touch stone with her, so she wouldn’t get too nervous. They are holding the interview in one of the smaller living rooms of Avenger’s Tower, so that Stephanie would feel more at ease. Pepper promised her not to leave her side during the interview, and for that Stephanie is entirely grateful.

 

Christine Everhart turns out to be a no nonsense reporter who doesn’t seem to be interested in misguiding Stephanie into revealing too much information. Her blue eyes are determined but not unkind in the way they gaze at Stephanie, who is quite surprised about that.

The way both Pepper and Tony had reacted when Coulson had green-lit the interview had made her rather nervous about meeting the woman. It is rare for Pepper Potts to show dislike about a person, and Tony had almost thrown one of his tantrums, his voice all angry and flippant, as he demanded if Coulson was joking. When he had noticed Stephanie however, he had snapped his mouth shut and avoided any eye contact.

“Just be careful with her. She’s a bloodhound,” he had murmured before quickly shuffling out of the room, leaving Stephanie surprised. She hadn’t thought he would be the one giving her any kind of advice right now. Not after everything that had happened between them.

 

“I must admit, I am a bit nervous today, Captain Rogers.”

Stephanie jerks her attention back to the blonde woman sitting next to her on the couch. She can’t quite believe she heard that comment right.

“You and Agent Carter, I grew up admiring the both of you. Women in the military who didn’t give anything about what men thought of them. You were my heroes.”

Stephanie is watching the heat rise in Christine Everhart’s face, and one of her perfectly manicured hands comes up to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

 

Stephanie’s neck heats up. She can’t believe how bad she thought of that woman without even talking to her. How could she have other people’s opinions on her determine her so much? She doesn’t like how prejudiced she is becoming. Pepper’s and Tony’s opinions shouldn’t matter more than her open mindedness. So Stephanie decides to just let go of her preformed opinions and give Christine a chance.

Stephanie starts opening up after that. Her answers grow from two sentences to five, to her actually just talking for a couple of minutes giving Ms Everhart an opportunity to actually interact with her. They talk about how Stephanie is adjusting to the 21st century, how it is to lead a team, what she thinks of various things like the Internet, modern TV shows and various semi-political questions. Neither of them mentions the name Stark. If they even mention Tony, they use his superhero name.

 

“I’ve seen some of your sketches in documentaries. There are even a few of your works on display at the Smithsonian. Do you still venture in the arts or is that something you no longer have time for?”

 

Stephanie laughs as her hands unclench from the sketchbook she hadn’t let go of during the entire interview. Her cheeks are a little flushed when she admits to her continuous love for art and reveales the sketchbook.

 

“You’re carrying it with you? I had no idea! Would you show me some of your work, I really admire it!”

Stephanie smiles at the woman’s enthusiasm and nods, opening up the sketchbook.

“Of course, but it’s really nothing special-”

She is cut off by JARVIS’ alarm going off.

 

 

Christine Everhart is more than happy that Captain Rogers agreed to do an interview with her. That fact not only stems from her being finally able to secure her position under Jameson in the Bugle, but also because of her life long admiration for the brave and independent woman. Ever since she had been a small girl, her mother had taught her how valuable and important good role models were. Agent Peggy Carter and Captain Stephanie Rogers had been hers.

She is actually nervous, not only because she has been looking forward to meet her idol, but also because of her history with Stark. She knows the man doesn’t like her and her start with Pepper Potts had been very frosty. She sometimes regrets the remark she made on her position, but back then, when Stark had vanished on her and left her to his employees, she had been incredibly hurt. 

But now Stark is one of Captain America’s trusted teammates, and probably had a word or two to say to his team leader before their interview.

 

When Captain Rogers treats her with nothing than the utmost respect, she is relieved. Even under Pepper Potts’ frequent stares, the interview is going well. She keeps to the questions she had prepared, and after some time, Captain Rogers is opening up to her. She makes sure not to mention Howard Stark’s name in any context.

She saw a recording of the disastrous press conference, and she had winced when Jameson had asked his question about Howard. She could tell that there was some history there and that for whatever reason Stephanie Rogers did not like talking about the man. Christine always suspected that her relationship with Howard Stark had not been the fairytale romance everybody believed it was.

She had spend hours researching him for one of her articles in university and she’d had plenty of evidence pointing to Howard Stark being an asshole and a drunk. She couldn’t imagine someone like that with Captain Rogers, given her own family history.

 

They are in the middle of discussing Stephanie’s passion for art when the alarm goes off. Christine can feel everyone stiffening in response and when she turns to Miss Potts with a questioning look, the woman has lost all traces of well masked hostility.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut the interview short, today.”

Both, Miss Potts’ and Captain Rogers’ faces are set in stone. Christine can only watch as Stephanie Rogers literally becomes Captain America in front of her eyes, her shoulders rigid and her posture tense. She excuses herself and all but jumps off the couch, reaching into a pocket and procuring a comm, which she quickly slips into her ear, already trying to reach the rest of the team.

“It is best for you to stay here, Miss Everhart,” Miss Potts explains hurriedly. She is already trying for someone on her phone, probably trying to find out what kind of attack has happened now and where the hell Stark is.

“I will send someone to make sure you’ll get home safely. Until then, please don’t leave the room…”

Christine can only agree for fear of someone setting that robot voice on her, which she really doesn’t enjoy. So she is trapped in a living room in Avenger’s Tower, while everyone else is probably reporting on the attack, getting a better scoop of the action than her.

She sighs as the door closes behind Miss Potts, and starts gathering up her things. Even the robot voice is too busy during an attack, so she really has nothing better to do than wait.

Gathering up her things, she notices Captain Rogers’ sketchbook on the floor, several papers peeking out and some even strewn on the floor. She must have knocked it over when she’d stormed out of the room.

Christine bends down to pick them up, flipping through the pages as she does. Captain Rogers had wanted to show her the sketchbook anyway, so she is not feeling too bad for sating her curiosity a little bit. And yes, the sketches are really good.  
She admires the sketches of Hawkeye in action, probably done during a training session on the range. There is a study of Black Widow’s movements and Christine has to agree, the woman is really good.

 

She stops when she gets to the end and finds an envelope tucked between the pages, its expensive paper slightly faded and the initials SR written on it in crisp handwriting. She knows, she shouldn’t look at it, but the envelope is open, and for some reason she has the feeling this is a major thing.

She reasons that no one is ever going to find out if she just takes a peek, and really, what harm can it do?  
Her fingers close around the paper in the envelope and she slides it out, carefully unfolding the paper.

The fist thing she notices is the old Stark Industries emblem. She stares, realizing that this letter must be from Howard Stark.  
Her eyes fly over the letter, drinking in every word, soaking it up. Her face looses all of it’s color.

When she comes to the end, she swipes out her phone, quickly taking a few pictures of the letter. She then places it back in the envelope and carefully puts everything back into the sketchbook.

Suddenly the attack is all but forgotten and when the driver finally enters the room to get her home safely, she doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. Her mind is racing.

 

Howard Stark was a rapist.

Tony Stark is moping.

He would never admit this to anyone, least himself, but he is in deep stages of moping. During the attack, he’d done his very best. He had followed the escaped prisoners, he had played human shield against their dangerous plasma ray gun, he had attacked them with his repulsers, he had rescued civilians, he had flown Hawkeye around, he’d thrown himself into the action, he’d been reckless and he’d basically done everything to provoke Cap.

Coulson had yelled at him over the comm. Romanoff had been pissed. Even JARVIS had chewed him out on his decisions. But Stephanie had remained professional, giving him orders and thanking him for his dedication in the end. She hadn’t even glared at him, not even once!

 

He leans his head against the workbench, dutifully slurping down the post attack smoothie Dum-e had prepared him. Fury was probably throwing a fit right now, seeing how Tony was missing yet another debrief, and he could only imagine that Coulson was lining up his tasers, a prerecorded Supernanny marathon already waiting.

But Tony couldn’t care less right now.

 

He doesn’t really understand why, but he misses his quarrels with Stephanie. He never would have thought that he actually enjoyed going head to head with her, but after their fight finally had escalated and she had decided to just ignore him altogether, he can’t help but regret it.

 

“I went too far, huh?” he asks Dum-e, who makes a whirring noise in response and rolls closer to him.

Tony huffs, and when Dum-e lays his head on his shoulder, Tony begins to stroke it absentmindedly.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, buddy.”

 

He should never have blamed her for his father’s actions, he knows that. Whatever happened between the two of them, it was not Stephanie’s fault that Howard became an angry drunk and all but ignored his own family. Howard always was an asshole. Tony just regrets that apparently he turned out just like his father in the end.

 

Disgusted with himself, he slurps down the last of his smoothie. Whatever Dum-e put in there, he should make sure the robot never used that recipe again. It would be better for all of mankind.

 

"Yeah. Maybe I should just apologize,” he agrees to Dum-e’s whirring. The robotic arm cocks his head quizzically and focuses his camera on Tony, who just gives him a snort accompanied with a peat on the head.

“You are really the worst. Can’t you go her and talk to her for me? Seriously, who could be angry at such a cute useless hunk of metal?”

 

Dum-e doesn’t seem to mind Tony’s insult, instead he rolls even closer and reaches down Tony’s pocket, placing the Stark phone in his hands.

 

“You give Opera a run for her money… So, what do you want me to write?”

 

Dum-e executes a full turn in front of Tony and wriggles his arm excitedly. Tony can’t help but laugh at that. He then proceeds to type a quick, but hopefully efficient message.

 

Cap, I’ve been an ass. Sorry. Requesting a talk?

 

He shoves the phone back to Dum-e, not at all feeling like a third grader who just messaged his crush. That would be ridiculous. His eyes wander around the workshop, assessing. Maybe he should allow JARVIS back in. Maybe he even should report back to Coulson and just get over with the debrief. If he seriously wants to make up with Cap for good he should at least take some of his responsibilities and deal with them.

 

Dum-e then presents him with his beeping phone and Tony’s heart almost skips a beat. He didn’t think that Stephanie would be so quick in texting him back. He wouldn’t even have thought she would see the text until tomorrow. Obviously she had Natasha with her. She probably texted him something snarky accompanied by a scary emoticon.

 

He frowns down at Christine Everhart’s number. How did she even still have his number? He figures a shark will never let go of it’s prey, so probably the interview had not been satisfying enough and she now wants to blackmail him.

The text simply reads “I think you should see this” with image files attached.

 

After Tony reads the letter his father sent Stephanie, he really, really needs a drink.

When Stephanie opens her door, she almost takes a step back. Tony Stark is staring at her with huge brown eyes, like a deer in the headlights. There is no hostility in his gaze, no cocky arrogance in his eyebrow. He is not grinning at her, not even his posture is normal.

“Hey…”

Tony is still staring at her, his gaze unreadable.

“What…?”

“Ice cream.”

Stephanie frowns, almost coming closer to make sure she heard that right. She could swear Tony is drunk, but something isn’t right. Tony Stark has a certain aura about him that even intensifies whenever he drinks. And that aura is missing completely now.

“You need to eat ice cream.”

Stephanie blinks. She can practically watch the life slowly return into Tony’s eyes. Whatever bad place he had been in, he is coming back. Slowly.

“How many flavors did you have back in the day, like three? Potato, cabbage and stale bread? We have a bazillion flavors, have you even tried a single one yet? Chocolate is a must, if you even know what that is. You should try walnut. And cinnamon. Raspberry-mango is always a great combination. And mint chocolate-chip. We have ice cream with half baked cookie dough in it. Do you even know what an accomplishment that is?”

Stephanie doesn’t know whether she should be glad or afraid now, but she can almost watch as the dark shadow falls off her and Tony. She settles for a smile and relaxes her pose.

“So… you’re telling me that you want me to eat ice cream, is that it?”

Tony smiles laying a hand on Stephanie’s shoulder.

“No, Cap, I need you to have ice cream. With us. As a team.”

His hand on her shoulder is warm, and for a split second Stephanie is reminded of Howard’s hands on her. One look at Tony’s hopeful eyes chases away his father’s ghost however, and Stephanie finds herself agreeing.

Whatever caused this change of heart in Tony, she is glad it happened. She can hear the unspoken apology in his words and she is sure he can hear her unspoken acceptance. Neither of them needs to hear the words.

 

 

When Tony all but leads her into the kitchen, Stephanie is faced with the rest of her team, all of them around the kitchen table, fighting over various cartons of ice cream.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at the two of them, throwing Stephanie a questioning look, but Stephanie deflects it with a smile. She sits down between Thor and Clint, who have been fighting over a bowl of rainbow colored sprinkles, giving both of them a mock stern look.

 

“I have gathered you here to witness the grand introduction of ice cream to Captain America,” Tony proclaims dramatically and everyone just stares at him.

“I think Stephanie knows-”

“Shuddup Banner, this is a historical event.”

“Stark-”

“Any complaints Romanoff?”

“You’re an idiot.”

 

Stephanie smiles, watching her team picking on each other good naturedly. She wishes every day could be like this; everybody just laughing and having fun together, when they’re not out, saving the world.

She is pretty sure they are slowly getting there, however.

Stephanie places a hand on her stomach and lets Tony put flavor after flavor in front of her, purposefully not mentioning that she had had plenty of ice cream back in the day, thank you. And had Tony even heard of Coney Island before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it folks. This is the end. There is an epilogue and I am currently developing the plot of the sequel. This first part was more or less written through pantsing, without much planning. So there are many issues left untoched... But seeing as I already had a perfectly boring plot for the sequel, that I decided to just trash and start over... It will take a bit. So stay tuned for the next chapter of Stephanie Roger's So Called Life!
> 
> Thank you!


	6. Epilogue

Dear Stephanie,

 

 

It’s been four years since your plane went down.

 

Four years since the day came that I have forsaken my last chance for absolution.

I don’t even know if you would have ever forgiven me. I only know that I can never forgive myself for what I have done to you.

You were my creation, Stephanie. I made you what you were. Or at least that is what I chose to believe.

And I wanted you to love me, I needed you to love me. It drove me crazy that you didn’t.

You were a good woman. I took advantage of that.

I believed that with time, you would come to love me too. And during those nights, when I came to you, I even believed that you did.

I know now that I was wrong. I should not have forced you to.

Please know that I would have never done it. I would not have separated Sgt. Barnes from you. I would not have stationed Agent Carter anywhere else. I would not let anyone harm any of your Howling Commandos.

They were all empty threats. And you indulged me because you were afraid for them. Because you loved all of them.

I know that you despised my touch. That you despised me. I despise myself.

I am not asking for forgiveness. I just needed you to know.

I am sorry.

 

Howard


End file.
